


Outrunning Karma

by Cherrydate



Category: Dead by Daylight (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Break Up, Character Death, Debt, Poor Life Choices, Presumed Dead, Suicide, but this is like what i imagined happened before he was taken by the entity, im sorry for doing this to ace, rip our favorite gambler boy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-31
Updated: 2019-08-31
Packaged: 2020-10-04 05:24:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,964
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20465744
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cherrydate/pseuds/Cherrydate
Summary: There's really no escape until he dies.





	Outrunning Karma

The bed creaked as the man slumped onto it. A rough, shaky hand covered an eye as the other stared at the ceiling, examining the various stains on the grimy surface. He had an intense migraine, and his thoughts were racing like a highway.   
Did he pay off that bill to Tommy? Yes, he did with Roy’s stolen cash; but now Roy’s pissed off. Did he forget to eat this morning? Did he even have anything he could eat? Perhaps.

Ace rose to his feet, creeping his way over to the barely functioning fridge. It emitted a loud buzz as he opened it and the Argentine winced at the sound. He felt as if everyone in a mile radius could hear the device - and when you’ve crossed as many people as Ace has, everyone’s an enemy.

The contents were rather pathetic; a most likely expired container of yogurt, a quarter of a carton of milk and some moldy cheese. Grabbing the small plastic yogurt container, Ace closed the fridge and finally shut up the horrendous sound of the fridge. He plucked a dirty spoon from the sink which was piled high with used silverware and plates. The dishwasher was broken; he’d have to hand wash them. Someday.

Visconti sat on the bed with a sigh, plunging the yogurt holding spoon into his mouth. He left the utensil in his mouth for a bit as he continued to run his thoughts over. He still needed to repay Roger for helping him out with Big Boris and his goons - hah, Roger was not happy to waste resources on someone like him. If it weren’t for Ace’s negotiation skills aiding his gang, Roger would have left him for dead.

Then there was the time when he trespassed on Pete Payton’s territory and promised that he wouldn’t return and would pay a fine. Pete never received his money and had been sending Ace threatening messages ever since. He sent another this morning and into the pile it went with the other letters intended to terrorize him.

His green eyes wandered over to the picture frame sitting by the bed, containing a photo of a smiling young woman. The shattered glass marred her appearance, but she was still beautiful. His Patricia.

He loved her, even when she was fed up with his addictions. He knew that she loved him too, but she was smarter than he was. She knew that his gambling would drag them both down and she was right to tell him to leave. Ace could still remember the way her usual warm cocoa eyes glistened with anger and dipped into a deep, terrifying brown. Oh, how he loved her.

~

“Ace? What are you doing just getting home? It’s three in the morning.” Patricia spoke up as her husband swayed into the room. He sat down on the other side of the bed as the woman sat up with a hand cupped to her chest. Visconti reeked of alcohol and his clothes were covered in filth and...god, was that blood?

Ace smiled at her, a hand smoothing her silky hair down. “Mm, just got into a bit of trouble with some guys, Pat. S’all good.”

Patricia’s frown pressed into a thin line as she took note of how Ace slurred his words. Of course he went gambling - again. That was all her husband seemed to do nowadays. Patricia herself worked at the local diner, collecting enough funds to barely keep them going. Ace on the other hand…

“Did you win?” She asked in an attempt to be supportive of her lover’s undesirable hobby. However, by the look of Ace and the way that he arrived at the house so late she already knew the answer.

“Nope!” He cried out a little too positively, the dopey smile on his face never fading. “Gon’ try again tomorrow, feelin’ real good ‘bout it!”

The woman narrowed her eyes, pulling away from Ace as his fingers were pried from her black locks. “But you always say that, and you always lose our money - no, my money!”

Ace opened his mouth to say something, but Patricia kept going with her rant. “I’m sorry for yelling, but you need to understand where I’m coming from. I work my ass off, and you just take everything I’ve earned and waste it!”

Ace felt his cheeks flush with anger, burning brighter and brighter. “But I could get us so much more! We can ditch this shitty town and go elsewhere together!” He spoke, a large tan hand intertwining with a smaller milky one. “Just imagine mi amor, us livin’ a life of luxury and no more worryin’ about not havin’ enough money to pay for the bills.”

Patricia pulled her hand away in disgust, furious dark eyes meeting his green ones. She continued yelling at him. “You never win though! You always borrow money from the wrong person and put us both in danger!”

As if someone had flipped a switch, Patricia’s anger dissipated into sadness. Multiple tears rolled down her pale cheeks and Ace’s expression softened. “How…” She began to say through sniffles and held back sobs. “How are we supposed to start a family if so many people want you dead?”

Ace stuttered as he tried to deduce a way to make her feel better. “Look, I-I can fix this okay? Just hold out ‘til I win again, I promise I’ll pay them off-”

“No. Ace, I’m done. I can’t do this with you anymore. You promise and promise that you’ll just solve everything on some lucky whim and it just - it never happens.” The distraught woman rose to her feet as Ace watched his wife step away from him.  
“I don’t want to be harmed because of your unhealthy gambling. Visconti, please leave my house.”

“Pat, c’mon, you don’t really mean it, do you?”

The expression on Patricia’s face said it all; she did mean it. Seeing that look of betrayal, anger and weariness was enough to do it for Ace. He wouldn’t try and beg for her to take him back or give him another chance, Patricia had dealt with him enough. He loved her too much to allow her to put up with his frustrating antics anymore. Ace stood up as well, standing face to face with his wife. She still looked beautiful as ever, even when she was furious with him.

The two shared one last hug as Ace apologized to the delicate woman. Next thing he knew, he had gathered his stuff and was walking down the driveway as Patricia watched him with misty eyes and heartbroken weeps. Where he was going, he didn’t know.

~

Fuck, why was he crying? He didn’t cry when it happened, so why was he crying now? The motel room was silent aside from the garbled sobs that Ace held back. The effort was wasted; the last of his willpower shattered and droplets were flowing like a faucet from his eyes.

She was right about him, looking at where he was. He was broke and wanted dead by multiple gangs and mobsters. At least she didn’t stick with him through it; Ace couldn’t bear to think about what would happen if she was the victim of one of their brutal attacks.

He missed her warm embrace when he came home from a shitty day at the casino. He missed her laugh when he told his wild stories and she never doubted the genuineness of them. He missed her soft lips pressing a kiss to his forehead, whispering how she loved him.

Visconti continued to cry, thirty years of restrained emotions pouring out at once. He wanted to see Patricia again and apologize over and over for every shitty thing he did, for all of the messes that he got the two into. At least now she was probably out there, living a much better life than him.

Ace had started to calm down when there was a loud pounding at his front door. The horrific sound intensified the pain in his head and he found himself rising to his feet in a panic. Perhaps it was the owner of the motel, reminding Ace that his payment was coming up soon. He crept over to look through the peephole and-

It was Damien, the debt collector for Pete Payton’s gang. Damien was known for torturous methods used on scumbags like Ace who refused to pay. And now the Argentine was Damien’s next victim.

His heart beat so loud that he swore that the man on the other side of the door could hear it. He needed to escape without being seen, Ace needed to run as far away from here as possible. He would be tracked down, of course, but it was better than surrendering in some run down moldy motel.

An idea hit him harder than Damien would have and the gambler bolted for one of his back windows. He pried it open as the banging on the front door persisted. Ace heard Damien yell something but he didn’t pay attention - he just wanted to escape.

It was a good thing that Ace was rather skinny; he slipped through the small window like liquid and sprinted for the forest located behind the motel. He had to be fast before Damien broke down the cheap, creaky front door of the room. Once he was inside, it would be obvious where the poor man had gone.

Ace ran through shrubbery and large sticks, the various objects of nature shredding his clothes and leaving their mark on his skin by creating cuts and gashes. He knew where he was going, for he ventured this path more times than he could count on his fingers. He was heading for his waste disposal, the same place where he took unwanted evidence of crimes or bodies of unfortunate murders he was involved in.

It wasn’t long before the Argentine had arrived at his destination. Before him was a large ditch in the middle of the forest, the hole so deep that it was pitch black. Ace didn’t know how far down it went, but all he knew was it was hard to retrieve any waste once it was thrown in. It’d be hard to retrieve him.

The cool air of the night hit his face as he finally took in his surroundings for once. The sky was a beautiful black, littered with flecks of stars and the moon was a vibrant white. The sight managed to bring out a smile from Visconti, the last thing he thought he’d do in this moment. He was hit with a feeling of calmness, the serenity of the night melting away his troubles. For the first time in years, he felt that things were truly going to be alright.

Once more, tears dripped from his eyes as he leaned forward, his feet slipping from the ground. Ace plummeted into black, falling deeper and deeper until the light had completely evaporated. The main awaited hitting the bottom, yet it never came. Instead, he was grabbed by a...spider leg?

More of the arachnid like limbs wrapped themselves around him. He let out a panicked shout that was drowned out by the darkness surrounding him. It burned hotter than anything he had ever felt and restrained his movements. Visconti ceased his struggles - nobody would hear him anyways. Besides, was this what happened when one dies?

Ace settled on that thought, the idea bringing him relief from the burning pain. He never believed in an afterlife, yet from what he was seeing it could have been true after all. Maybe he’d see his mom again, and any other deceased family members that he never had the pleasure of meeting. Hell…

Maybe he’d see Patricia again.


End file.
